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sattlersquarry · 2 years

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forget-me-not (steve harrington x gn!reader)

Summary: (Post Season 4) Steve Harrington broke your heart almost a year ago. You think it's only right to still hold a grudge, despite how good he seems.

Word Count: ~5.9k

Warnings: Language, alcohol, sex is mentioned and alluded to but not described, angst with a happy ending, this was originally inspired by Little Freak by Harry Styles but it got away from me and now it's a different beast entirely.

A/N: There are a lot of lovely fics out there where y/n gets stood up for a date and best friend Steve comforts them, but I'm evil, so in this one, Steve is the stander-upper 😈

April, 1986

Hawkins is in shambles.

The earthquake ravaged the town, and now ash spews out of large cracks in the ground every few days. The military attempts to contain the strange, almost reptilian animals in the forests, but there are too many to keep up with, and all citizens are encouraged to be in their homes by 6 p.m.

You don’t fully understand how it went down, how the sweet, small town you grew up in became such a nightmare.

You’ve been spending your time volunteering with the relief effort. In doing so, you’ve gotten closer to people you’ve tangentially known all your life but never gotten to know that well. You’re also forced to spend time with people you’d never wanted to see again.

One such person is Steve Harrington: former playboy turned into…you aren’t really sure yet. Despite your grudge, he’s better. Kinder. Softer around the edges than he was during your school days. During the days he broke your heart.

Perhaps that’s melodramatic. You hooked up once last summer, and then he stood you up for an Enzo’s date. You aren’t even sure he remembers doing it, but as you stand side-by-side folding donated clothes, the memory sears through your brain.

Summer, 1985

You try to contain your excitement as you enter Enzo’s. You’ve been on plenty of dates to cheap diners and movies, but this is your first real, official, proper “adult” date.

So what if you’re doing things out of order? Sure, you’ve already slept with Steve. The two of you both worked at Starcourt before it burned down, and you spent all of June flirting on your breaks. You’d visit him at Scoops Ahoy, he’d visit you at Waldenbooks. He’d walk you to your car the nights you both closed, promising to provide free ice cream for you tomorrow.

After a particularly hard day and long shift, you’re easily enticed when Steve asks if you want to come over.

“For pizza,” he says. “And a movie.”

So you eat pizza, and watch a movie, and then you kiss him a little, and then he kisses you a lot, and the next thing you know, the two of you are in his bed.

It isn’t the awkward one-night stand you’re afraid it will be. On the contrary, Steve is genuine and sincere the morning after.

“I really like you,” he says. He brushes a hair out of your face as you lay side-by-side, curled up under the covers. “I want to take you out.”

“To dinner?”

“No, with a sniper,” he says with a snort. “Yes, to dinner!”

So you agree to go to Enzo’s the following Friday night.

After the mall fire, Steve calls and asks to postpone a couple weeks.

“I’m just in a weird place right now,” he says. His voice is a little hoarse.

“Is everything okay?” you ask, concern etched in your tone. “Do you need anything?”

“No, no! I just—listen, can we meet up in two weeks instead?”

You assure him that’s fine, and you spend the next two weeks preparing for the date. Your friends help you pick an outfit. You decide what you’re going to order ahead of time. You even pick a perfume that’s strawberry scented, since you know that’s Steve’s favorite ice cream flavor.

The day of the date, the Enzo’s host leads you to the table Steve reserved. You wait, and wait, and wait, and after thirty-five minutes, the waiter comes around for the fourth time to ask if you’re ready to order.

“My date’s running a little late,” you say. Panic nests in the back of your mind, but you push it down. “Can I have a few more minutes?”

“You must order something to keep the table,” the waiter says snidely.

“Oh, right, sorry,” you say, snatching up your menu. “Um, can I just have two of the house special?”

The waiter gives you a prim nod and retreats.

You beeline to the slew of payphones, hands shaking as you dial Steve’s number. You get his voicemail.

“Hey, Steve,” you say, trying to keep your voice upbeat. “It’s me. Y/N. Um, I’m at Enzo’s and I’m waiting for you. Our table’s in the back, near the potted plants? I hope you don’t mind, I ordered for you. The waiter was about to blow a gasket. Anyway, I’ll see you soon, okay?”

You return to your table. And wait. And wait. And wait.

The waiter brings you two plates of chicken parmesan. You eat yours and wait. Then, you eat Steve’s, and you wait some more.

90 minutes after your arrival at the restaurant, you head to the payphones again. You suck in a shuddery breath and try to keep from tearing up as your fingers fumble over Steve’s number. Voicemail, again.

“Steve, me again. Are you still coming? The wait staff are starting to give me pitying looks. I really, really had a good time with you this summer and want to see where this goes…it’s fine if you don’t feel the same. But, please, come to the restaurant so we can talk. Or, just call the restaurant and they can get the phone to me. Um, okay. Bye.”

A full two-and-a-half hours after your arrival at Enzo’s, you’re a wreck. You’ve ordered five desserts to try and keep your table, on the foolish hope that Steve will arrive.

He doesn’t.

Your waiter has softened somewhat when he brings you the check.

“Whoever they are,” he says in a low voice, “they aren’t worth it.”

Your face burns hot with embarrassment as you hand him your credit card.

After getting a to-go box for the strawberry cheesecake you ordered for Steve, you slink to the payphones once more. This time, you don’t stop the tears from falling, but you compose yourself enough to keep the final voicemail from devolving into a blubbery mess.

“Steve. I just wanted to let you know I’m leaving. I waited for you for almost three hours.” You sniffle and add, “If all you wanted from me was a one-night stand, why did you make me think otherwise? Jerk. Have a nice life, Harrington.”

You slam the phone against the cradle and stomp out of the restaurant, waiting until you get behind the wheel of your car to let out a heaving sob.

April, 1986

“Earth to Y/N!”

Steve snaps his fingers in your face and you startle.

“Sorry, what did you say?” you say, shaking yourself out of the memories that makes you hate the boy next to you.

“I asked if you had any plans this weekend?”

You resist the urge to scoff. Fun plans, amidst the disaster? And he’s trying to make small talk with you? That further confirms your theory that he’s forgotten all about you, or that he’s such an arrogant blowhard he doesn’t even realize how much he hurt you.

“I might go to Enzo’s,” you say, trying to jog his memory. “It’s one of the only restaurants still open right now, and I hear the chicken parm is really good.”

You glance at him, but his facial expression remains unchanged: a contented smile as he organizes the clothes he’s folding into boxes for summer and winter.

“Hey, that sounds fun. Oh, you should get the strawberry cheesecake. It’s delicious.”

You scowl, having hit your limit of being nice to him.

“You’re such an ass,” you scoff, shoving a bundle of folded sweatshirts into his arms and storming off.

“Huh? What? Whoa, whoa, Y/N! Wait up!”

You weave through the volunteers, heading toward the doors for a much-needed respite. Steve, however, won’t leave you be.

“Hold on!” he says, catching up to you and stepping in front, blocking your escape. “What’s wrong?”

“Are you kidding?” You bark out a humorless laugh. “Wow, you’re more of an idiot than I thought.”

Hurt flashes across his face, brow furrowing.

“Excuse me?”

“You seriously don’t remember?” you say. “Last summer? Enzo’s?”

Steve scrunches his face up with confusion. He rubs his eyes.

“Wait, hold on,” he says. “When did we go to Enzo’s?”

“We were supposed to, at the end of July,” you say. You jab a finger in his chest and push just a tad too hard. “But you fucked me and then stood me up, and you never even called me back. Steve, I felt used and I was mortified. And you have the audacity to ask me about my plans and recommend the Enzo’s strawberry cheesecake, as if I didn’t eat three slices waiting for your sorry ass to show up!”

You start to storm off, but Steve grabs a hold of your shoulder.

“Wait, wait, wait,” he begs. “Please don’t go. I just—I can’t remember—when did we make the Enzo’s plans?”

“Who cares when? What matters is you didn’t show—”

“Y/N!” Steve says louder, catching the attention of some nearby volunteers. He blushes and drags you to a secluded corner behind some old gym mats. Eyes wide with panic and shame, he repeats, “When did we make the plans?”

You wrench free of his grasp.

“We originally made the plans a few days before the Fourth,” you say, voice cold, “after we slept together. You asked to reschedule. And I never heard from you again.”

About seven different emotions flick across Steve’s face.

“Oh, shit. I think I know what—listen, last summer I started having these gaps in my memory, and I—”

“Save it,” you say tiredly. “I don’t need your excuses, Harrington. It doesn’t matter anymore.”

Before he can say anything, you leave him alone with his thoughts and regrets.

🍓🍓🍓

Steve is starting to think the universe hates him.

After his foray into the Russian bunker, he remembered about your date and that he needed to reschedule. He even called Enzo’s and changed the reservation. But the weeks following the drugging and the beating, he started to forget more and more things.

He missed a dentist appointment. He forgot what day his parents were coming back into town, so he set the dinner table for the whole family six nights in a row until they actually returned. He unintentionally skipped a job interview at Bradley’s Big Buy with Robin.

That night you waited for him at Enzo’s, he could tell he’d forgotten something. He assumed it was giving Dustin a ride.

“What are you doing here?” Dustin had asked when Steve parked his BMW outside the Henderson house.

“Don’t you need a ride somewhere?” Steve had said with a frown.

Dustin, not one to turn down a free carpool, had Steve take him to the arcade.

Steve wasn’t home when you called from the restaurant. When he did return home, his mother had already deleted your voicemails, assuming they were all telemarketers.

Steve never got your messages, but he didn’t forget about you. He saw you in town a few weeks later and tried to go talk to you, but when you saw him coming, you glared and darted in the other direction.

He tried not to be too hurt by that. His foggy memory made him wonder if he misread any signals. Maybe you had just been looking for a one-night fling. Maybe the sex hadn’t been good for you. Maybe you had moved on and found a new guy while Steve recovered from the Battle of Starcourt. He didn’t hold it against you if you had.

Now, eight months later, Steve realizes he’s been wrong this whole time.

“I messed up and Y/N hates me!” Steve groans, ferociously spreading peanut butter on bread. Robin works on the jelly sides as they prepare meals for the hungry of Hawkins.

“It’s not your fault that you forgot the date!” Robin says. She drops her voice to a whisper and adds, “We were tortured. You were concussed.”

“But I didn’t even call,” Steve says. He slaps two slices of bread together harshly, angry at himself. “After I saw them looking so upset in town, I should’ve called to check in. To clear the air. If I had, maybe I would’ve realized what happened and could’ve fixed it.”

“You can think about ‘what ifs’ all day,” Robin says. “Or you can try to make things right.”

“I can’t,” Steve says. “They won’t even look at me anymore. I don’t blame them.”

“I don’t get why they’d hold such a grudge,” Robin wonders, neatly packing their newest sandwich into a brown paper bag. “I mean, you missed one date. It’s not like you slept with them and ditched them. Unless…”

Robin narrows her eyes at Steve. Ashamed, he doesn’t look up from sandwich making.

Robin scowls and smacks his shoulder.

“Ouch! Robin!”

“You are the horniest dingus this side of the Mississippi,” Robin says. “Of course they’re so angry! They think you used them for sex! Technically you did, since you never followed up.”

“What happened to the ‘it’s not my fault’ shit!”

“It’s not! But the unfortunate truth is that you look like a total ass. You need to apologize.”

Steve does. He’s fully vulnerable and partially honest, and spins a tale about how a new medication with unfun side effects, such as brain fog, is why he completely forgot the date.

“I’m really sorry, Y/N,” Steve says, after he’s finished. He’s tempted to ask if you’d be willing to try again, but he resists.

You study him, eyes scanning his face for any indication he’s bullshitting you. You don’t look angry, but you don’t look very forgiving either.

“It’s fine,” you say, after what feels like a millennia. Steve relaxes when you give him a small smile. “Let’s just move on. Hand me those sweatshirts?”

And so you two continue to work together, nothing more than acquaintances at best.

August, 1986

Steve almost dies in the final fight with Vecna.

The battle causes more earthquakes that leave many in town dead or wounded. Eleven is finally able to kill Vecna and destroy the Upside Down once and for all—but not before Steve is severely wounded by Vecna’s army of demodogs.

He doesn’t remember much after the attack. He thinks he remembers Robin and Dustin crying. Someone—Hopper? Jonathan, maybe?—carrying him out of the Upside Down. The paramedics asking him his name, the year, the president, to count backwards from 10.

Then, it’s all a bit fuzzy, until he wakes up a few days later. He’s got a lot more scars than he did, but he’s alive and Vecna is gone, so that’s something.

He doesn’t expect to see you in his hospital room when he comes to.

“Y/N?” he croaks.

You whip around, eyes wide as if you’ve been caught doing something you shouldn’t. Except you aren’t doing anything wrong—you’re adding a stuffed bear to the collection of Get Well Soon gifts on the windowsill.

“Oh, shit,” you say. “Let me get your doctors.”

When you disappear into the hall, he gets a better look at the teddy bear you’ve brought. It’s pink, with a strawberry-shaped nose. The mylar balloon tied to its paw says: Get Well Bear-y Soon! Steve’s heart swells at the realization that you remember his favorite flavor, that you went to the trouble to buy him a gift. He’s not sure he deserves it.

He assumes you’ll come back in, but instead, a swarm of doctors and nurses encroach. Then, it’s Dustin and Robin and Nancy and Jonathan visiting him. Then, Hopper and Joyce and the other kids.

By the end of the day, he’s exhausted from visitors, but he still wants to see you once more.

He does, three days later.

He returns to his hospital room after physical therapy—the demodogs did a number on his shoulder. You’re there again, adding a Feel Better card to his stash. You startle when he walks in.

“Hi!” you say, a bit louder than intended. You clear your throat. “Sorry. I don’t want to disturb you, I’ll just go—”

“You’re not disturbing me,” Steve says. “I could actually really use the company.”

That’s a lie. Robin’s been in his room so much the nurses think she’s his sister. But you don’t have to know that.

You relax and nod.

“Sure, yeah, I can stay for a few minutes.”

Steve sinks onto his hospital bed and you sit in an uncomfortable-looking, plasticky armchair.

Silence stretches between you two. It’s not tense, but it’s charged with something.

The two of you start speaking at the same time.

“Sorry,” you say. “I just—I hope it’s not weird that I’m here.”

“What? No, not weird at all,” Steve says. “We’re friends.”

And that’s true. The past four months, the two of you have become much closer. Still fully platonic, but on the cusp of something more.

“Robin told me that you got hurt in the big quake,” you say, clueless to the true nature of the disasters. “She said—um, she said you almost didn’t—almost didn’t make it. And that made me feel horrible, because I really like you…r friendship. And I couldn’t imagine losing that. So I’m glad you’re going to be okay.”

You hesitate before covering his hand with yours. His hands are calloused and warm. Yours are icy cold. Steve represses a shiver at your touch.

“Thank you for coming,” Steve says. You squeeze his hand and his breath stutters. He recovers just enough to say, “And thank you for the bear. He rocks.”

“You like him?” you say, glancing over at the fluffy teddy on the windowsill. “You should name him Enzo. In honor of the strawberry cheesecake.”

“I was actually thinking of naming him Beartholomew,” Steve says. “Beary, for short.”

“That’s perfect. Or Beart, like Bart?”

He chuckles. The sound of it triggers an incomparable feeling in your chest.

“I like that. Beart Harrington.”

The two of you smile at each other. It feels warm and easy, same as your flirtationship the summer prior.

Your eyes flick to his lips. Is it weird to ask someone on a date in a hospital? you think.

Before you can turn on the charm and see if Steve wants to join you for a cup of Jell-O in the cafeteria, the door swings open and his friends Dustin, Robin, and Erica rush in.

You drop his hand on instinct. Steve misses the feeling of your touch.

“Steve, Max is about to be discharged and she asked—oh, hey Y/N!” Robin says. “Sorry, are we interrupting—”

“I was just leaving,” you say, standing. “I have to head to the soup kitchen. Then I’m back to the high school for more donation work. But I’ll see you around, okay?”

Steve wants to ask you to skip your shifts and stay. But the request dies on his throat. Instead, he just nods and says, “See you around.”

You give a polite nod and smile to his friends before leaving.

“Is that them?” Erica asks once you’re out of earshot. “The one you’re totally crushing on, like a weirdo stalker?”

“He’s not a stalker!” Dustin says. “He’s pursuing his Suzie.”

Steve rolls his eyes.

“They’re not my Suzie,” Steve says, “as much as I want them to be. That ship sailed, ages ago.”

October, 1986

When things in Hawkins are a little better, you’re able to start your second year at Roane County Community College.

Steve and Robin enroll as well, and share an apartment off-campus. For Halloween, they invite you and half the student body to a rager.

You don’t want to go at first. Mainly because you’re afraid alcohol will spur you to do something stupid, like tell Steve that you want him.

You’re not sure why you do. You gave him the benefit of the doubt but still don’t fully believe his story about why he missed your date, and wonder if his recent kindness and friendship is a trap to lure you in and break your heart once more.

But that seems too cruel for him. He’s not like that, you’ve learned in your six months of new friendship.

Plus, he almost died over the summer, and while that kind of thing would’ve made you bitter and angry and terrified of the world, Steve doesn’t let it weigh him down. He’s still kind and empathetic, still loyal and bright.

Fuck, you want him so bad. As a friend? No: as a boyfriend, as a lover, as everything all the time.

You stand in the corner of his and Robin’s living room, nursing a hard lemonade and avoiding eye contact with the object of your affection (currently dressed as Marty McFly).

Marty McSteve dances his way over during “Monster Mash.” You laugh at his chaotic display, trying to mentally murder the butterflies in your stomach.

“Hey!” Steve says. He adjusts his orange vest. “Wanna dance?”

Friends dance with friends…right?

“I’d love to,” you say with a smile.

The two of you drink, dance, and drink some more. At some point, you and Robin do shots. After that, you stop resisting the urge to throw yourself at Steve. You boldly go up to him and ask, “Hey, you never showed me your new room. Give me a tour?”

The excuse is shoddy but works its magic. Two minutes later, you’re making out with Steve in his room, pulsing beat of the music reverberating through the thin apartment walls.

His kisses are hot and heady, his hands wander your frame and make your skin burn.

“I’ve wanted to do this again,” Steve murmurs between kisses. “For so long.”

“Me too,” you say, breathless, pulling him even closer to you. The two of you drunkenly stumble around until he pushes you onto his bed.

He kisses your neck, and it feels so amazing, you want to live in this moment forever. But then you glance around his room and see Beart Harrington on his dresser shelf, and you’re taken back to that night at Enzo’s, eating strawberry cheesecake and waiting alone.

You don’t think he would do that again. But the tiny part of you that’s unsure panics.

“Steve,” you stutter out.

Unaware of your inner turmoil, he moans your name and continues kissing your neck. One hand grips your waist, the other roams higher up your thigh.

“Steve. Stop.”

At that, he immediately pulls away and off you, concern clouding his features.

“Is everything okay?” he asks. His voice is so tender, you melt a bit.

You’re not sober enough to properly articulate your feelings. To tell him that you like him so much and getting heartbroken by him again would destroy you.

So you simply sit up and say: “I can’t. I’m sorry.”

“That’s totally fine,” he says. “We don’t have to do anything you don’t want to.” You don’t respond, just stare at your lap. Steve adds, “Do you need anything? Water, or something to eat?”

You flounder, stammering something about how you don’t feel well and want to go home.

Steve nods. If he’s disappointed or upset, he doesn’t show it. “I can walk you home if—”

“It’s fine,” you interrupt. “I’m sorry, again.”

“You don’t need to apologize,” Steve says gently. “Seriously, it’s all good.”

You mumble out a goodbye and practically sprint away, leaving Steve alone on his bed.

“I don’t understand,” he says as he and Robin clean up beer cups after the party has ended. “They ran away so fast. Did I do something wrong?”

“People are allowed to change their minds about sex, you know,” Robin says. She tosses an empty cup at Steve. He fumbles and catches it.

“I know! And that’s okay. But if I made them upset, I want to know why. Rob, I like them so much. I don’t know if I can just be their friend anymore. I want more. And sometimes it seems like they do too, but right before we cross that line, they push me away.”

“This is a conversation you need to have with them, not me,” Robin says. She pulls a pillow off the ground and groans. “Great. Molly puked on the carpet. Hand me a sponge.”

🍓🍓🍓

Steve calls you the next day to check on you.

“I’m okay,” you say, fingers twisting in the phone cord. “Just tired.”

That’s not necessarily a lie. But you’re speaking in mistruths by not openly telling Steve how you feel. How you want him but are so terrified of what will happen. What is this effect he has on you?

“That’s good,” Steve says. You can tell he’s nervous by the way his voice cracks. You can practically see him run a hand through his hair over the phone—an anxious habit he can’t seem to break. “Listen, I’m really sorry if I made you upset yesterday when we were about to…you know. I didn’t mean to cross any boundaries or make you uncomfortable.”

“You didn’t,” you rush to reassure him. “It’s not you…”

You cut yourself off before adding the dreaded it’s me. Instead, you say, “I wanted to do it, but I just panicked.” You suck in a breath. “The truth is, I really, really like you Steve. A lot. Like, I like you way more than a friend should.”

Steve stops breathing for a moment.

“You do?” he asks.

“Yeah. And that terrifies me.”

“What?” Steve says, holding the phone closer to his ear. “I terrify you?”

You laugh, despite the tension you’re feeling.

“No,” you say. “You’re a gem, Steve Harrington. But the thought of getting heartbroken by you again…that’s what scares me.” You drop your voice to a near whisper. “I think it would ruin me.”

Steve gulps. You had been forgiving about the Enzo’s thing when he cleared the air, and the two of you have become such good friends since then. Guilt gnaws at his insides when he realizes how much being stood up affected you.

“I’m so, so sorry Y/N,” he says, after a beat. “I didn’t realize—I mean, I knew what I did hurt you, but I didn’t know—”

“It’s fine, just forget about it—”

“No!” Steve says urgently. “Please. I like you too. I want to make it up to you. To take you out on a real date.”

You pause, chewing your lip and pondering the idea.

“I don’t know if that’s such a good idea,” you say cautiously.

“Please. Just trust me.”

Trust. You trusted Steve last summer, and look where that got you.

But you don’t want to be afraid of falling in love with him. Not anymore. So you agree to go on a date with him, hoping for the best.

🍓🍓🍓

Steve doesn’t give you any indication what the date will be. He just tells you to be ready at 7 p.m. sharp.

As the clock ticks closer to 7, you feel your anxiety spike. You’ve convinced yourself he’s not coming, that you’re being stood up again, until—

Knock! Knock! Knock!

You stand from the couch so fast you make yourself dizzy.

When you open the front door, Steve is waiting. However, he’s not alone.

“Oh!” you say, recognizing Steve’s friend Dustin from some volunteering shifts. “Uh, hey, guys. What—”

“Good morrow!” Dustin booms in a theatrical voice. Steve sighs and shakes his head.

“Henderson,” Steve hisses. “I told you: no Shakespeare shit!”

He turns to you and beams.

“Hey, you look great!” he says. Steve holds up a bouquet of forget-me-nots, your favorite flower. The irony is not lost on you. “This is for you.”

“Oh, thank you,” you say, taking it. “You do too. Uh, and Dustin! Nice hat.”

The hat in question is some sort of computer joke, with lots of 1s and 0s. You don’t understand it. But Dustin preens at your praise.

“Thanks, Y/N!” he says. “Now, are you ready for the date of your life?”

“I’m supposed to be the one to say that,” Steve says. “Henderson, just go wait in the car. In the back seat! BACK. SEAT.”

Dustin clambers into the back of Steve’s BMW.

“Steve,” you say, “did you invite me on a babysitting date?”

“I promise I didn’t,” Steve says. “But I did ask my friends for some assistance. You’ll see. Now, what did Henderson say—are you ready for the date of your life?”

He holds out a hand. You hesitate, but take it and smile.

“I think I am. Rock my world, Steve Harrington.”

He drives you (and Dustin) across town to the nature reserve. Dustin exits the car before Steve’s even fully parked, sprinting ahead into the forest.

“Are we supposed to follow him?” you ask.

“He’s going ahead to set some things up. We’ll follow, just much slower.”

Steve holds out an arm. You link yours in his, a bit flustered at the closeness.

“Sorry if this is weird,” Steve says as the two of you leisurely walk on the reserve’s wooded trails. “I know it’s not your typical dinner date, but we tried that, and I fucked it up.”

“It’s really fine, Steve,” you say. “You were on that medication that made you forget.”

Steve bristles at the reminder of his shitty lie. He wishes he could tell you what really happened. Maybe one day.

“It’s not fine,” Steve says quietly. “I hurt you, and that’s the last thing I want to do. So I hope this will make it up to you.”

You make it to a clearing and you gasp. A picnic table has been decorated with flower petals. Twinkly lights are strung on the tree branches and bushes, and around the nearby park ranger station.

Local rock band Corroded Coffin stands at the edge of the clearing, tuning their instruments. Robin, the new lead singer after Eddie’s passing, notices the two of you enter.

“The lovers are here!” Robin says. “Let’s go, boys! 1, 2, and a 1, 2, 3, 4!”

You’re expecting a heavy metal song, and are pleasantly surprised as they start to perform “Crimson and Clover.”

“Do you like it?” Steve asks. He’s wringing his hands together and looking at you expectantly as you survey the picnic.

“It’s amazing,” you say, eyes shining.

Dustin appears from the ranger’s station with his friend Lucas. They’re in matching bow ties.

“Welcome to Chez Hawkins,” Lucas says. “Table for two?”

The boys lead you and Steve to the picnic table. Dustin hands you two hand drawn menus while Lucas pours red wine into two plastic red cups.

“These are lovely,” you say, fingers lightly tracing over doodles on your menu. “Did you guys draw them?”

“Will Byers did,” Steve says. “He’s, like, an amazing artist.”

“May I recommend the house special: grilled cheese?” Dustin says.

“Mainly because that’s the only thing we know how to make,” Lucas adds sheepishly.

You and Steve “order” grilled cheese sandwiches and the boys disappear back into the ranger station. You can faintly hear them arguing with a third person about how much cheese is too much.

“This is really thoughtful,” you say, gesturing to the decorations and the live band and the wine. “You didn’t have to do all this for me.”

“I wanted to,” Steve says with a shrug. “I want to show how much you mean to me.”

Your insides turn to jelly. No one has ever shown you this much care or attention before. And to think, you wasted two-thirds of a year hating Steve Harrington when you could’ve been having these kinds of lovely date nights all the time?

You push away your regrets about your grudge to enjoy the date. The grilled cheeses Lucas delivers are delicious and pair surprisingly well with the wine. You and Steve talk about everything and nothing, and you thoroughly enjoy the music and the company. Corroded Coffin plays all love songs for you two, except for one or two Metallica hits.

When it’s time for dessert, Lucas and Dustin return with their friend Max Mayfield. She parks her wheelchair next to the picnic table and plops a tupperware onto the table between you and Steve.

“Sorry for the lame presentation,” she says. “I hope you like them.”

Dustin pulls off the tupperware lid and waves “ta-da” jazz hands, revealing four red cupcakes. Each is adorned with pink frosting and heart-shaped sprinkles.

“Red velvet cupcakes with strawberry frosting!” he says. “A combination of your favorites.”

You stare at the cupcakes, jaw dropped. Steve panics when you don’t say anything. He clears his throat.

“Sorry,” he says. “I thought you said once that you liked red velvet, because your grandma always made it for you. You don’t have to eat it! I think I have half a granola bar in my car if—”

“I told you that last summer,” you interrupt.

“Huh?”

“The thing about red velvet cake,” you say. “I told you that last summer. Hell, that was one of the first things we talked about, because I asked if Scoops had a red velvet flavor. And you remembered that? One passing comment from last June?”

Steve swallows hard, nervous under your relentless gaze, and nods.

“Uh, yeah? Is that insanely creepy of me?”

“Kids,” you say, not breaking your gaze from Steve’s adorably flushed face. “Close your eyes.”

Dustin, Lucas, and Max voice their confusion, until you lean across the picnic table, pull Steve up by the collar of his windbreaker, and kiss him fiercely. When the kiss registers, Steve wraps an arm around your waist.

The two of you look ridiculous, each half-sitting, half-standing on your sides of the table. Max snatches the tupperware onto her lap just as you pull a little too hard and Steve falls onto the tabletop. He winces and rubs his elbow, and you apologize profusely—but can’t stop smiling.

“Disgusting,” Lucas says, shaking his head. “You two couldn’t even wait until we were gone.”

“Eat these before you make out,” Max says. “They took all day.”

The trio of teens mumble about “gross adults” before retreating to the ranger station. You join Steve on his side of the table, not wanting to be even two feet apart.

“This is the perfect dessert,” you say, “and this is a perfect date. Thank you, Steve.”

“Of course,” Steve says. “I hope it makes up for last year. I still feel so bad about it—”

You place a hand on top of Steve’s.

“You don’t have to be sorry anymore,” you say softly. “It’s all right, Steve. I fully and wholly forgive you. The past is the past.”

“You’re not just saying that because I gave you wine and cupcakes?”

“Nope. But I like wine and cupcakes, so you should do that again sometime.”

“I think I can swing that.”

He takes a bite of his second cupcake just as you whisper something about a different kind of dessert you want to give him, if he wants to take you home. He almost chokes on sprinkles, face as pink as the strawberry frosting, before he grabs your hand and pulls you down the trail. You giggle as he calls over his shoulder, “Robin! Stay with Vickie tonight!”

“Harrington! You paid us to play!” Gareth, the drummer, shouts after you two. “Not clean up!”

“Oh, let them go,” Robin says. “They’re in love! Besides, we’ll make Dustin clean.”

You and Steve spend a perfect night together. As promised, he rocks your world.

🍓🍓🍓

Your boyfriend Steve is forgetful.

He misses doctor’s appointments. He forgets to pick you up from work sometimes. He gets schedules mixed up, and, yes, sometimes he forgets date night.

But you’re a patient person, now that you know he doesn’t do it intentionally. You love him with your whole heart, and you know he feels the same. And you couldn’t ask for anything more.

#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x gn!reader #steve harrington fanfic #stranger things fanfic #steve harrington #st fic: forget

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candied-cae · 2 years

Text

And Who Are We At The End Of The World? - Turn The Radio Up

[1] [2] [3] [4] [5] [6] [7] [8] [9] [10] [11] [12] [13] [14] [15] [16] [17] [18] [19] [20]

Chapter 12/? - - - Read it on AO3

Word Count : 9,063

Summary: Joyce is headed back with Murray and a certain someone in tow. Which means they all just need to survive a few more hours on their own. They just need to do a few things to take care of business, and wait.

More ST Fics

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Nancy took the boys to the police station, where an officer let them into the Winnebago. And honestly, as she was doing so, she’s never been so grateful she left something behind in the Upside Down. If she didn’t vividly remember dropping that sawed-off felony when they found the trailer empty, she would be in a whole different kind of mess. Instead, they were there for the clothes the Upside Down crew had before gearing up in Warzone attire, and a few things they hadn't wanted to bring through the gate with them. Steve told her that he’d grab Robin’s stuff and run it over to her, so Nancy just picked up her own things and the backpack they’d left behind when they ran everyone into the hospital. There were a few other small items she packed away while Lucas and Dustin got together his clothes and the other walkie.

When they left, the cop marked off the items they were taking from the inventory sheet, just in case they tried to use the opportunity to rob the Jamesons. Which… okay, maybe she could be more offended about the assumption if they hadn’t actually stolen the whole RV itself just a few days ago. So she let it slide, and they piled back into the station wagon.

Overall, it wasn’t a long visit. Nothing to write home about. They threw their stuff into the back and were planning to pick up the other kids to go by the hospital when they heard Steve’s voice come through their walkie.

“Hey guys, we have a bit of a… a thing.”

“A thing? Over.” Dustin questioned him, eyebrows high on his forehead while Nancy focused on pulling onto the street.

“Yeah… it’s not a whole situation, but, um, definitely a thing. Well, it’s two things, actually.”

“Two things? Steve, I need you to start explaining right now. And say 'over' when you’re done. Over.” Dustin said, rolling his eye at Lucas, who silently nodded in agreement.

“Over, whatever,” the voice came through muttered and annoyed.

“So, what’re the things, Steve? Over.” Lucas leaned over to ask this time.

“There's, like, a whole news station outside the hospital, so it might not be a good idea for everyone to come by. Since we planned to keep the Cali Crew’s Epic Return off the radar.”

Which made sense.

It stung that they wouldn’t be able to visit, but they really shouldn’t be seen on television if what the boys said was true. About there being some government faction that pretty much wanted to kill El. That is, if the government lady who told them that while she tried to put them on house arrest was to be trusted. And that debate was a whole other can of worms, as far as Nancy was concerned.

Ugh, just trying to sort through what they knew, what they suspected, what they feared, and what they could even do about any of it... that mental maze was going to give her a headache.

And that was only one thing. It was a big, head-aching thing, but just one. And Steve said there were two. And so, after a pause, he continued.

“And also… Max’s mom… kind of… knows… Over.”

“Excuse me,” Dustin said calmly, before exploding,” WHAT?! Over!”

“I saw her while I visited Max, and Susan said that in the letter she left, Max said she wanted to explain some stuff to her. Over.”

“Some stuff? Over.”

“About what’s been going on.”

“Specifically, Steve. Over.” Dusting urged again, clearly not loving how vague the older boy was being.

“I don’t know. I didn’t ask, and I didn’t know what to do- so I told her I’d call her tonight and… explain? Over.”

“Shit, Steve.” the boy said, forgetting to say ‘over’ in his shock.

“Well, what would you do?!” Steve got defensive,” She was, like, crying at me, looking at her kid, and begging to know if she was a bad mom for not knowing what was going on with her daughter! I couldn’t just throw her a ‘What? You’re crazy, lady!’ and skip down the hall! Over!”

“Shit, Steve!” was still all Dustin could think to say back to him.

“Well? Game plan? You guys got one of those for me?” Steve asked.

The boys looked to Nancy, who’s been silently driving this whole time, turning over the options in her head. She’s in charge, on that they all agreed. But that was a big decision. They haven’t… told anyone, who didn’t find out themselves, except for Murray, and that was way different. She’d wanted to, for Barb, for the Hollands. But she didn’t, couldn’t. The best she could do was give them a different lie so they could move on… but what do they do here?

“Nancy?” Dustin asked her.

“I don’t know,” she answered.

He passed it along into the walkie,“ No, game plan here, dude. Over.”

“What if we ask Joyce? Over.”

With that, Nancy snapped her head back a bit and held out her hand. Silent, though her demand was clear. One that Dusting understood in just a moment before he placed the boxy device right into her grip.

“Joyce? You heard from Joyce?” she spoke into it, completely forgoing the walkie-talkie manners Dustin quietly griped about to Lucas.

“Yeah. She called me at the hospital to get in touch with the Byers kids. Said she was going to be on a plane with Murray and be back here tonight. Already sent her to my place so she could let them know.”

“Joyce is getting back to Hawkins? Tonight?” She reiterated.

“Yes. That’s what she said.”

“Okay, okay,” Nancy breathed,” Then we’ll call Susan to come by your house after we get together for the strategy session. Have her come by when Joyce lands, and she can decide what it is, exactly, that we’ll tell her. Got it?”

“Yeah, sounds good.” Steve agreed.

Nancy felt better at least having that decision off of her plate before she asked,“ You headed back there now or…?”

“I’ll stay here a bit longer.” he answered,” Talk to ‘em both like the nurse said to. I’ll drop by the station after a while, pick up my stuff and meet you guys back there later.”

“Alright. You know when Robin’ll be free from Church?”

“Should be soon. If you wanted to pick her up and wait at my place with the others, you’re welcome to.”

“Yeah, I’ll snag her with Mike and Erica, and we’ll be there when you get back.”

“Sounds like a plan.”

She passed the walkie back to Dustin’s waiting hands, to which he informed her and Steve,“ Neither of you guys said ‘over’ that whole time, by the way. Over.”

“Oh my god-” the older boy bemoaned.

“Do you want to walk back to Steve’s, Dustin?” Nancy threw back at him.

“No! I’m just saying we have had a system of walkie-talkie usage for years! And, now that we need to get everyone on the frequency, you supposedly ‘mature adults’ are the ones who can't follow the rules!” he argued.

“Hey, Dustin?”

“Yeah, Steve?”

“You just forgot to say ‘over’. Twice.” He pointed out, voice full of teasing glee that he could knock him down a peg at just the right moment,” Over.”

“ASSHOLE!” Dustin all but screamed into the receiver.

“I’m turning your volume down, little man. Yell and scream all you want, I’m going to relax. Maybe even take a nap-”

Dustin cut his transmission off,“ Steve, you’re supposed to be talking to them-”

Steve cut his short in turn,“ Night night, Henderson. Over.”

Dustin sat scowling in the back seat,” He’s supposed to be talking to them.”

“You really think he won’t?” Nancy asked him, a knowing gaze that made the boy uncross his arms and admit that, yes, Steve was just messing with him because he was being a bit of a turd about the walkies.

The next stop was the Sinclair’s, where Erica climbed into the very back, pinching off her nose as she did so and kicking at Dustin’s dirty laundry while they went to grab Mike. They added him to the backseat and pulled out of the driveway before Ted Wheeler had a chance to realize Nancy wasn’t immediately giving the keys back after the allotted trip to the police station. Then the last stop to make was Robin’s place. And Mike complained the whole way over.

Complained that he and Nancy were blood, so he deserved the shotgun seat. Complained that they should just go straight to Steve’s so they can see the Byers sooner. Complained that they weren’t going to the hospital to sit with Max and Eddie anymore. Complained that Steve was going to rub off and make Eddie stupider by spending time with him. Complained that Dustin and Lucas were traitors when they told him to be nicer to Steve.

God. He was really becoming a little angsty sourpuss in his teenage years.

Eventually, they got Robin in with them, and Nancy practically sighed in relief to have an ally against all the children in the back. While the boys and Erica made some ruckus about something she didn’t even want to understand, Nancy and Robin fell into some kind of small talk.

“So, how was church?” she asked, somewhere between not knowing what else to ask, and real curiosity because it was something she’s never gone to.

“Well, it was church,” Robin said plainly,” It’s still a place that’s mostly boring, if not a little guilt-trippy. Same stiff clothes I never wear otherwise. All the same old ladies my grandma has known since I was a little tike, each wanting to lament about how long it’s been since they last saw me on a Sunday morning.”

“Wow, so you guys really do, like, actually go to church.”

“Yeah. I’ve been in those pews ever since I can remember. Really only got out of it so much recently with how busy I’ve been with school and work. But now that those are both on pause and I went missing - and with a pair of boys, no less -” she used a haughty voice to imitate her mother,” Now it seems like the parents are less understanding of my disinterest in the institution.”

“That’s so… interesting?”

“It’s interesting?” Robin doubted.

“Well, Mike and I never really did the church thing. Our parents aren’t really… ‘devote’, I guess. I mean, our dad’s about as traditional and conservative as they make ‘em, but, eh, I guess God’s never really been our thing.” Nancy explained.

“God’s never really been my thing, either, to tell the truth.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. I mean, for the first three or four years, I would pretty much just follow my family in, take our seat, try and roll with it for a few minutes, and then end up using my jacket as a pillow and falling asleep in the pew the whole time. Then I got old enough that they said I couldn’t just keep doing that anymore. So I figured out how to follow along in the hymns, tried to pay attention. I had this aunt that would slip me mints and let me check her watch through mass to keep me contained. That's pretty much how I learned to read an analog clock face." she gave a little laugh at the fact," And I just had all these questions, and I wanted to ask these questions and understand why it is we think this is the way the world is. But then I got the impression that they didn’t really like my questions all that much, so I got quieter. And when I get quiet, I get bored. Which led to me inventing this fear that the priest had, like, ‘holy eyes’ or something. And he would see a lightbulb above my head. All lit up if I cared 'enough' and turned off if I didn’t. I literally terrified myself into thinking he knew I wasn’t really getting with the program, and that I'd be, like, outed or something as a bad Catholic. And then I got out of it well enough. I was busy, it was a good excuse. But now, poof, Robin’s back in those pews, revisiting the idea that the old man in the front of the room can see her burnt-out lightbulb.“ Robin huffed at the end, turned to Nancy, and realized she did it again,“ Sorry, that was a lot. Again. I just mean, I don’t think I ever really did a really good job at it. The whole God thing.”

Nancy looked over at her for a moment, a warm smile playing on her lips, and she shrugged,” I would never call you burnt out. Maybe you were just too smart, too young. I mean, if I had believed in God before all of this? The Upside Down would’ve turned me off of the whole theory pretty fast. You just didn’t have to lose it. Since you weren’t clinging to it in the first place.”

“Maybe. A full-on religious crisis mighta really drove me bonkers after the meat monster.” Robin let out a little chuckle before bothering to ask,“ And how was your morning? At the RV?”

“Not very interesting. It looks pretty much exactly how we left it. A mess. But I got my stuff, and the boys got theirs. And Steve said he was going to stop by after a while to get his and yours?”

“Yeah, there’s a duffle bag in his closet with my name on it. Thought it might be a good idea to add the stuff from the RV as a change of clothes and turn it into a go-bag since we’re waiting for Vecna to come back.” Robin answered simply enough.

“A duffle bag of your stuff?” Nancy asked, voice hinting at suspicion.

“Yeah. For sleepovers.”

“Remind me again,” she glanced over at her,” You’ve been trying to convince me there’s nothing going on there, right?”

“Oh my god, are you back on that again?” she asked, at the same moment that Dustin decided to ditch the others for this conversation instead,“ That’s what I’ve been saying, Nance!”

“Ugh. Can’t a girl have a best friend without everyone making their own assumptions about it!” Robin groaned, rubbing her hands down her face.

“What’s wrong with him, Rob? He’s great!” Dustin argued.

Mike cringed and turned his nose up at the idea,“ No, he’s not. Steve’s sort of the worst.”

“He is not without flaws, Michael.” Dustin drew out his name in protest,” But he’s pretty good. Definitely way above average for guys in Hawkins, right? I mean, I can run a sales pitch on him better than I could for you. Lucas, back me up.”

“You can’t deny that he’s kind of a mess,” Erica threw in.

“Strike that from the record, your honor. That was not the witness I was addressing. I asked Lucas Sinclair to back me up.”

Lucas nodded along to the idea and leaned forward to speak into his hand like it was a microphone,“ This is Lucas Sinclair, and I am willing to go on the record that I like Steve Harrington. He’s a good guy and would make a fine boyfriend to any interested party. Especially, to one who was already in with his friends. As inappropriate as they may be for a boy his age. Thank you for the time.”

“See! So, what’s wrong with him, Robin? I promise I’ll make him fix it if you guys will give it a shot!” Dustin practically begged her.

“Don’t do that to her.” Mike tried to talk him down,” Robin’s making the right decision to ice him out.”

Robin turned around in her seat to look at the boys,“ There’s nothing wrong with him, and I’m not icing him out! I am just a disinterested party. He is my friend. F-R-I-E-N-D. We have a purely Platonic, capital ‘P’ Platonic, mind you, relationship. And it’s great, I love the guy.”

Dustin’s eyes widened hopefully, and he opened his mouth to start something when Robin threw up a silencing finger,“ In a friendly way! I love the guy in a friendly way. And he knows that and feels the exact same way about me! So, if you need to have a good cry because this relationship you’re rooting for doesn’t stand a chance, go for it. But you’ll need to accept it, sooner or later, so you can move on.”

Dustin silenced for a moment, and Robin almost believed he was going to drop it until he added,“ But what if I got him to shave his gross chest wilderness? I think I’m winning him over!”

“No!” she squealed,” That’s not going to change anything about us! Let. It. Go.

“But what if-”

“Zip. It. Henderson.”

Thankfully for everyone involved, that was the end of that conversation as Nancy pulled them up to Steve’s house.

“Behave,” She told them, voice firm.

Various versions of ‘We do!’ came from the back seat as they all unbuckled and opened their doors. It wasn’t long before they were inside with the other four. Jonathan told them about their call with Joyce. She was putting together bags for each of her kids and going by Argyle’s so his mom could pass along something to bring for him.

Apparently, Joyce was about as shocked as the rest of them that Argyle was sticking around for their mess. Yeah, he kind of got roped into it, but he didn’t really have to keep fighting their fight. He could go back to Lenora. Back to his life. Try to pretend like this week never happened to him. But he didn’t. And his mom was just as surprisingly okay with it. Perfectly fine with her kid hanging out in the Midwest with nearly no explanation. Sure, California gave the kids a two-week spring break versus Indiana’s one, so he wasn’t even cutting class yet, but still… It was strange. The only answer he gave was that he’s ‘got to see it through’, and his mom just seemed to trust him.

But at the end of the day, they’d have Joyce Byers back - and Murray Bauman - so they wouldn’t just be a band of kids running around on their own anymore.

And that was good news.

Lucas had picked up Max’s letters for El, Will, and Mike before he’d left home, so he handed them over. They all accepted the envelopes, but seemed to each have a different sense of what they were going to do with them. Mike looked at it like he almost didn’t believe she’d written him one. They always pushed each other’s buttons and said they couldn't stand being in the same room, but they cared about one another at the end of the day. Will was sad to be given it. The letter just showed him how truly scared she must’ve been. She thought she had to write them goodbyes because she thought she was dying. El, on the other hand, wanted to refuse the letter. Wanted to say she didn’t need it because she was going to get Max back, and whatever she wanted to tell her, it could happen then. She didn’t need a piece of paper with goodbyes. She needed to find Vecna and end him for good this time.

Which brought up the bad news. Or news that was bad-adjacent.

El couldn’t find Vecna.

She tried. Put on a blindfold and turned the tv to static, but she couldn’t. They worried for a minute that she was still too drained, but that wasn’t it. They had her check for Steve. And, sure enough, he was found just fine in a stiff hospital chair, humming along to a movie next to Eddie. And then Will said that he could tell that Venca was still out there, somewhere. He could feel just enough to know that. To know that he was hurt and small. He didn’t feel gone, but it didn’t feel like the times when he was already coming back. It was that much less, but still there.

And that fact made a certain kind of dread fall over the room. It’s hard to just sit there while there’s some unknowable doomsday on the horizon. Looming.

But they didn’t have anything they could do about it right then. So Robin took to wrestling through some of Steve’s tapes and to find the most heartwarming one to watch while they waited for Joyce to land.

And it was after a very long voting session that they were settling onto The Sound of Music. Mostly because it was really long and El liked musicals but had never seen that one. And then Robin shared that Steve called it an “Honorary Christmas Movie” because he always watches it every December, despite there being no real Christmas themes. They actually watched it together that past year. Just a few months ago, during one of their infamous sleepovers while snow settled over Hawkins. Then she added that he also calls Mary Poppins one… so maybe Steve just thinks Julie Andrews' singing is the only way to enjoy the holiday.

And it was at the mention of Mary Poppins that they switched their votes. Mary Poppins first and then The Sound of Music later. Mike crossed his arms and asked if they’d be tired of Julie by then, to which Robin said such talk was blasphemous and he needed more respect for such staples of American film.

So, now that they had plans for their evening made, Argyle and Nancy were set on getting everything ready for the taco night the Harrington House had agreed to. While Nancy didn’t really know what she was doing in the kitchen, she knew how to get people to work, and Argyle knew what they needed to do. So they teamed up and got them all assigned to different jobs in the kitchen to start getting everything prepped.

Time passed, and Steve was sent on his way out of the hospital. He made good on his promise and got to the RV before they handed it back over, and got a hold of the clothes he and Robin left behind. And Eddie’s vest. The denim one with the big backpiece, the patches and pins of bands Steve didn’t know anything about. It had been tossed in the passenger seat after Steve changed into his Upside Down attire. It was kind of gross now, all things considered. Sweat, grime, and blood all over; from when it was thrown at Steve in the wasteland.

It would be good of him to clean it before giving it back when Eddie woke up, but he’s not sure how he should do it. Would throwing it in the wash mess with all the stuff Eddie put on it? Or would it be rude to take the add-ons off first and risk messing up trying to put them all back on? Maybe just scrubbing it by hand in the sink or something would be the best way to deal with it, because just returning dirty, worn clothes couldn't possibly be the right choice. Maybe he’d ask Robin about it later. See if she had any good ideas.

That was just about the last thought Steve really had before he got back and was met with the strangest thing. His house. Full of the sound of voices and the smell of cooking.

Mike was dicing tomatoes and cutting lettuce, Jonathan was stirring ground beef while Argyle seasoned it, Lucas was shredding chicken, Dustin and Erica were plating different toppings, Will and El were setting the dining room table, which by the look of it, they also dusted off or wiped down, and Robin was washing all the dishes that came her way.

It was a sight to see his kitchen so busy.

The first time it’s ever really looked like that. So… homey.

“Now, this can’t be my house. None of the kids I know are this helpful,” he commented, dropping keys by the phone and heading for the stairs.

“We’re goddamn saints, you know!” Dustin called after him.

“Nah, can’t be. Wrong kids,” he answered back as he went to throw his and Robin’s dirty clothes from the RV in the washer, drop off Eddie’s vest on the chair in his room, and make sure his face at least looked like he’d cried less than two and a half times that day. When he returned to the kitchen, he slipped Robin’s beret over her head while her hands were busy in the soapy water.

“Thank you very much for returning this incredibly fashion-forward piece to me, good sir.” she tutted in a hoity-toity tone.

He nodded and jumped up to sit on the counter next to her,“ ’Course I would. But, for the record, couldn’t find your shirt, Rob.”

“What?” she asked as her hands stilled, setting down the plate she’d been scrubbing.

“Your shirt. Well, not the black undershirt. Got that one. But your, like,” Steve motioned around himself as he described it,” … tan button-up - that you never actually button up - with the black leaves, that you wore over the other shirt? Couldn’t find it.”

“How could you not find it?” she questioned.

“I don’t know, dude.” he shrugged to her and leaned back on his hands,” I checked the whole thing, wasn't there.”

“Ugh, fine. I’ll double-check my stuff at home, but I’m telling you I didn’t grab it before we went back into the emergency room.”

“I’m not accusing you of that. Just saying, I swear I looked under and over every inch of that thing, Rob, but it wasn’t there-”

“Hey, hey, Harrington,” Argyle quipped in from where he was preheating the oven,” No distracting my staff. Suds up with her and get those dishes clean.”

“I got to work too?”

“Unless you want to have to wash up from prep along with all the serving dishes later tonight.”

Steve hung his head with a disappointed groan.

“Ándale, ándale, ándale, man!” Argyle snapped his fingers at him until he got back on the floor.

“Alright, geez,” he mumbled, rolling up his sleeves and taking his place next to Robin,” When did he go mad with power?”

Robin dropped her voice and whispered back,“ I think it was somewhere around the time when Nancy decided she needed someone who actually knew what they were doing in here. She gave him authority, and now he’s got a wicked taste for it.”

“You two talkin’ some shmack over there?” Argyle called back over to them, squinting his eyes with mistrust.

“Absolutely not. Not us. We’d never do that.” Steve promised while Robin tried to bite back giggles.

“You’re such a liar,” she smacked his arm.

Steve smiled to himself and bumped her hip with his,“ Maybe.”

Eventually, they had a whole spread ready. Beef and chicken were in the oven at a low temp to stay hot. There were about a dozen different ingredients in the fridge. The table was set with plates, glasses, a bag of chips waiting to be opened, and even some decorative table candles they dug out of a back closet. All that was left to do, was to wait for their company to join them.

So Nancy decided it was time to get to a bit of business.

She pulled a notebook and pen out of her bag and said,“ Alright, first thing first, we need everyone’s favorite songs. Don’t want to get caught like we have before, so we’ll make sure everyone’s got their own tape with them at all times, just in case shit hits the fan suddenly.”

“What kind of favorite are we talking about here?” Argyle asked,” Like all-time favorite? Favorite right now? Favorite for a reason or favorite just because?”

Robin started to explain,“ Doesn’t really matter what kind of favorite. And it doesn’t even really need to be a favorite-favorite if you can’t pick one. The important part is that it means something to you. The music is going to reach a part of your brain that Vecna can’t block you out of. So you’ll want one that’ll put you in a good mood, make you feel better, remind you of a better time, or - if worse comes to worst - show you why you want to live even if he tries to back you into a corner.”

“I’d recommend we all have a mix with a few of our favorites, to be safe. But we also need a list of everyone’s best guesses at their ‘savior song’. Just in case something happens and someone needs to play it for you,” Nancy added.

Argyle shrugged and then answered,“ Then it's ‘Break My Stride’ for me. Can’t sing along to that song and not smile, you know?”

“Alright,” Nancy confirmed and jotted it down on the paper.

Jonathan gave his next,“ ’Should I Stay or Should I Go’. The Clash.”

But then Argyle turned to him and began to ask,” You sure, buddy? Cuz you’ve been listening to a lot of Joy Division. You know? ‘Love Will Tea-’”

“You’ve been listening to a lot of ‘Pass the Dutchie’. Don’t see me refusing your answer."

“Alright. Just checking.”

Nancy looked to the next one,“ Steve?”

There was a barely noticeable pause before he told her,“ ’Everybody Wants to Rule The World’. Tears for Fears."

But just as Nancy was starting to write it down, Robin jumped in,” No, it’s not.”

Steve looked back at her - eyes just like the ones she pointed at him when he met Vickie for the firm time - and he muttered back,” Yes. It is.”

”What is it with you boys and lying about music? This is serious.” she pushed.

”I love that song,” he argued.

”Yeah. I mean, I’d bet it’s probably in your top five,” Robin gave him,” But it is not your favorite, that one I know for sure.”

“What’s the real answer, Steve?” Nancy asked.

Steve kept his eyes locked on Robin as he claimed,“ ‘Somebody to Love’ by Queen.”

Robin narrowed hers in response,“ Also not it. But you’re getting warmer."

"Steve, what about 'friends don't lie'?" Dustin questioned him from the side.

"That's your thing with the other runts. I'm not a part of it."

Robin raised a brow and threatened," Well? You going to say what it really is, or am I?”

”Shut up, Robin.” he warned.

“I’ll say it if I have to, bud. We’re talking about saving your life here.”

“I’ll say yours.” Steve countered, using the only real leverage he could think of at the moment.

“It’s ‘Dancing Queen’ by Abba. Want me to share why, too? Sure. It's because it’s a super fun song, and I’ve been listening to it since I was like ten waiting impatiently to turn seventeen. And, now that I finally am, I’ve been playing it almost non-stop. Easy.” Robin answered without hesitation,“ So, you going to be honest or…?”

“Robin…”

”It’s ‘Holding Out for a Hero’,” she disclosed,” Bonnie Tyler.”

And all eyes were on Steve, wide in surprise as he tried to deny it,” She’s lying-”

”Am I? Because you have both the Footloose soundtrack and her single on vinyl. And, remind me again, how many times have you put it on a mixtape? Because, I know you have it on one you keep in your room and on another one in your car, but I feel like there were more, right?”

”That’s not true.”

”Steve,” Dustin cooed to him,” You have that much Bonnie in your room, right now?”

“There’s way more Bonnie than that, bud.” Robin shifted.

And Steve knew that look in Dustin’s eye, the sparkle gleaming with mischief, knew that meant the kid was going to collect the evidence of Robin’s testimony,” Henderson, I swear to God-”

”Hold him down, Lucas!” Dustin yelled as he got to his feet and started going up the stairs to Steve’s bedroom.

And Lucas did as he was asked. He lunged to tackle Steve into the couch while Mike piled on top to help him. Then there were Will and El and Erica and - seriously? How is it fair for five of these little assholes to pin him down like this when all he wants to do is protect his honor?

“Henderson, I’m going to kill you!” he called from the living room as he writhed around, trying to get out from under his captors.

And then Dustin was posed at the bottom of the stairs, the seven-inch disc displayed proudly in his hands,” Bonnie Tyler. ‘Holding Out for a Hero’. And it was the very first song on the mix I found. And I spotted her whole Faster Than the Speed of Night album. Wow, Steve.”

The man went slack under the weight of the other kids now that he’d been caught red-handed,” It’s a good song, man… Bonnie’s talented, alright…”

“Wasn’t gonna argue with you on that, Steve. You’re the one who made a big fuss about it.” Robin said, poking his burning cheek as the children started clambering off him.

“Shut up. Is it someone else’s turn yet?” he grumbled and swatted away her hand,” Why don’t you go, Dustin?”

“It's ’NeverEnding Story’. Pretty sure we all could’ve guessed that - except for the new guy - since it’s Suzie and me’s song.”

Steve rolled his eyes,“ Whatever,” while Nancy moved on.

“Mike? No, don’t tell me, it’s one of the new rock ones you’re borrowing from your nerd superstar. Right?”

Mike shot her a sharp expression, “ ‘Highway to Hell’ off of the AC/DC tape.”

“And is that actually your favorite or just the loudest, coolest sounding one you could think of right now?” she asked him, eyebrows raised like she didn’t trust him.

"It’s the truth," he asserted before looking over at Steve and practically sneering,” Because I'm actually secure in my music taste.”

“I told you to behave.” Nancy quickly scolded,” Alright, El?”

She nodded and told her,“ ‘Angel’ by Madonna.”

She didn’t say why. But it was because she could still hear Max’s voice sing alongside Madonna from their sleepover last year. And she’d needed to cling to that when she was all the way in California, feeling so alone. But she especially needed to cling to it now. It was what she was fighting for. Not just herself, or the world, she was fighting to get Max back.

“And Will?”

Will fidgeted for a second before telling her,“ ‘Boy’s Don’t Cry’ by The Cure,” really hoping nobody’s listened to it nearly as much as he had. He got why Steve had been so hesitant to admit his favorite. It felt so… exposing when the song hit emotionally close to home.

But Nancy didn’t spare another thought,“ Lucas?”

“Uh, yeah, ’Only You’ by Yazoo,” he answered quickly. He had a lot of songs he really liked. Even had more than a few that made him think about Max. But ‘Only You’ was the one he’d been caught on the most recently.

“Erica?”

“Katrina & The Waves’ ‘Walkin’ on Sunshine’.”

Her answer might’ve been a bit more surface level like Argyle’s. It was a fun, bopping song she liked to sing along to. Not everything needed to be some big piece on a person’s emotional state. Sometimes songs are just songs.

Nancy nodded and finished writing it down,“ And, I guess mine’s ‘Take My Breath Away’ by Berlin. So with that, we should all be set, just in case. Tomorrow we can start shopping for anything that we need, and we can make sure we’re ready for whatever happens from this point further.”

They all agreed on the plan and turned on the tv, popping in the Mary Poppins VHS while Steve moaned about Robin just giving away all of his carefully guarded secrets. But at the end of the day, Mary Poppins might just be his favorite movie, so he doesn’t complain much when it starts up.

Robin had asked him about it once. About why he loved this one specifically so much. In all honesty, he always kind of wished for a nanny like her. Miss Mary Poppins. 'Practically perfect in every way'. A woman who just showed up one day and never let Mr. Banks tell her off from trying to raise the kids right. Insisted on making sure they had fun and got to decide that they didn’t care about their father’s job. Fuck investments, it was better to feed the birds. And, in the end, it was because of Mary Poppins being in their lives that he looked at his kids, actually looked at them, and decided to take them kite-flying in the park.

Yeah, he used to dream about someone being able to make his dad do something like that.

And he wasn’t really mad that Robin spilled the beans on his secret Christmas tradition. He’s come to notice that Robin doesn’t just talk a lot in general, she talks a lot about stuff she likes. Steve being something she likes makes him feel like a pretty good friend. Which matters a lot to him, whether or not he’ll say so that often.

He also knows that Robin isn’t casually throwing around the real sensitive stuff. She doesn’t talk to the others about the stuff he tells her late at night when it’s like they’ve got the only light left on in the world. Doesn’t tell people why he likes Mary Poppins and hates answering the home phone. She keeps those conversations to herself. Tucked safely behind her ribs and right next to her heart.

But she’s sharing the little ones. Passing out small pieces of him. Because he needs to let people back in again, and she knows it.

He closed himself off a bit too much after Nancy. At least from people his own age. It was easier with the kids because they needed him. But Steve got beaten, burned, and left behind his senior year in a lot of different ways. He hasn’t been letting himself be vulnerable with people he used to consider his peers.

So Robin helps out. Blabs just enough that he has to be flexible. To bring everyone else just a little closer to knowing Steve Harrington.

And Steve knows she’s doing it. And he’s grateful because she makes it so much easier.

Just about an hour into the movie, though, the home phone started ringing. It was probably Joyce, but just in case it was his parents again, Steve ran to get it while the others kept watching.

Hoping it was Joyce made it easier to pick up.

“Steve Harrington,” he greeted.

“Hi, Steve! It’s Joyce,” her voice answered,” We just landed in Madison and are about to head on over to baggage claim. We’ve got quite a few suitcases, so if you kids send over our ride now, they might still get here before we’re free.”

“Sounds good. Your kids are finishing a movie, but I imagine they’ll be racing to meet you there within the minute anyway. You and Murray looking forward to being squished in the back seat around one of ‘em?” he wondered with a light chuckle.

“Yeah- about that… We will need three seats.”

“You and Murray been eating that much since last summer?” he asked.

“No, no. Just um- can’t really say why over the phone, but we’ll need plenty of room.”

Which certainly added to that suspicion Steve’s been harboring since her first call,“ Okay? I’ll let ‘em know and they’ll be on the way.”

“Alright, see you all in a bit. You kids better be excited, because we do kinda have a surprise.”

“A surprise? Don’t you think we’ve had enough of those?”

“Just trust me. It’s a good one.”

“Alright, Joyce. We’ll see about that.”

Nancy had already said she’d give Jonathan the keys to the station wagon since it’d have the most space for everything. So, by the time Steve was hanging up the phone, all three Byers kids were getting ready to put on shoes and head out the door.

“They’re all good?” Jonathan asked him.

“Yeah, yeah, they got to Madison just fine. Uh- but your mom said they’d need three seats.”

“She did?”

“Yeah. Didn’t really explain, but said there was some surprise and they’d need the room.”

“Okay? Um…” Jonathan looked between Will and El. If he could just send the two of them to see their mom first, he would. But he had to drive.

“You two go,” El said quickly.

“El-” Will tried to argue with her.

“No. It’s okay. I want to finish the movie. Go on and I’ll hug Ms. Joyce when you get back.”

“Okay. We’ll be back soon. Like, an hour, tops.” Will promised her.

“Sounds good.” she squeezed his hand and returned to the living room, jumping back into the couch right next to Robin.

Steve handed Jonathan one of the walkies and a spare house key,” Call us if you need anything.”

“Yeah. Let’s get going,” Jonathan clapped Will on the shoulders and led them through the door.

And then the brothers found themselves alone together for the first time in a while. For the first time since they talked in that pizza shop about being there for each other. And Will… ever since then, he’s started wondering if he should keep an eye out for a chance to… talk about something else. Something important.

“So, your favorite song’s still 'Should I Stay or Should I Go'?” he started, feeling like he needed to warm up the conversation somehow.

“Well,” Jonathan tossed the comment around a beat before deciding,” Not exactly ‘still’. It was my favorite a few years ago, back when I played it for you that one time. And then I liked other stuff, had other favorites. But, uh, I guess ever since - you know - everything happened, it just makes me think about you. About getting you back. So I’m pretty grateful for it.”

“Oh.” Will nodded understandingly, but his voice was a little gone. Like his head was off somewhere else as he glanced out the window to the dark city of Hawkins flying by.

“You not all that into it anymore?” the older brother guessed, sparing a glance at him.

“No.” Will answered honestly, before realizing that was kind of harsh to say about his brother’s favorite song, and backtracked to explain,“ I mean, I liked it too. For a while. Made me think about you, too. But, uh, can’t really listen to it much now without thinking about… almost not coming back. Being trapped under him and barely able to move my fingers, hearing the phone ring, and knowing I put you in danger by being… so… yeah, it's not really my favorite anymore. Sorry.”

“Hey, that’s okay,” Jonathan corrected,” You’re growing up. Your tastes would change even without something like that happening. And I’m not gonna hold a grudge over a song just cause I assumed you liked it still. It’s all good.”

“Yeah. Of course.” he gave a weak laugh to himself and looked down at his hands in his lap.

A silence came up between them while Cyndi Lauper sang through the radio. 'Time After Time'. The song that was playing at the Snow Dance while Will danced with a girl for the first time. When he started becoming sure about something. He picked at the skin around his nails. Worrying himself tense about how exactly he was supposed to go about… what he wanted to go about.

“Jonathan?” he finally asked.

“Yeah?”

“What if…” he bit his lip for a second,” you assumed other things wrong about me?”

And Jonathan could hear the tone in it. Knew that he needed to be serious and careful with exactly what he said. Because he didn’t want to scare Will off. Never wanted Will to be scared to tell him anything, especially the kind of thing he was expecting.

He needed to make sure his little brother knew that Jonathan would be on his side no matter what.

“Then, I guess, I’d just need to figure out I was wrong. And after I knew better, I’d just be happy you shared the news with me.”

“Even if it was something really big. Even if it was bad or- or wrong?” his voice cracked while he kept his vision trained on his fingers. Squeezing them together and doing everything in his power to not look at Jonathan. Because he was terrified… just in case. And then Jonathan’s hand snuck into his gaze anyway. Letting go of the wheel to reach over and wrap his hand around Will’s.

“There could never be anything wrong with you.”

And Jonathan said it like it was the only thing he’d ever been so sure about in his life.

"You’re my brother. No matter what, I’m going to be right here for you. Even if it’s something big. Even if… if it’s something that some people might think is wrong. I wouldn’t think that,” and then Jonathan turned to look at Will for a moment, his brother already glimpsing at him with misty eyes,” And the two of us? We’d be okay.”

Will dared to put Jonathan’s hand between his. He was so scared to believe it. Scared to break Jonathan’s love for him. Scared to tell him something that would make him recoil in disgust and never look at him the same way.

“We would?” he asked, begging for a sign to stop if he was going to ruin them.

Jonathan had to return his eyes to the road, but he said, just as surely,“ Yeah, we would. I promise.”

And, as scared as he was to trust him, Will found it in himself to ask it anyway,” Even if- even if I…” the tear fell before he finished,”… liked boys?”

But Jonathan didn’t pull his hand away. Didn’t recoil from him. Didn’t even hesitate as he looked back over - with the same loving eyes he always held for his brother - and he simply swore to him,“ Absolutely.”

And a shaking smile opened up across Will’s face, his eyebrows creasing together with hope as more tears began to trail down his cheek, and he squeaked out,“ Yeah?”

“Yes.” Jonathan turned back to look at him and squeezed his hand,” I love you, Will. And if you’re gay, then I love that about you.”

“Okay,” Will nodded, seemly to finally really believe that it was happening. He told someone, and it didn’t break everything. He wiped at his eyes as Jonathan continued.

“And if anything ever happens. If someone ever gives you shit about it, or even if you want to talk about guys or something, you can always come to me about it. You don’t have to keep me out of this part of your life because some idiots are assholes about this kind of stuff.”

“Okay,” he said again, laughing a little at the thought of running to his brother about crushes on boys. But he could really see it. His amazing brother, who just kept lifting all this weight off his shoulders, wanted to hear about his little love life. Assuring him over and over again with every word that it was real.

“You know I’m going to hug you ridiculously tight when I park this car, right?”

Will shook his head out, hoping all his crying was over with,“ Was kinda hoping you would.”

“Good.” he smiled, regretfully having to take his hand back for the big turn on the highway.

Then Will added,“ Can we not… tell anyone else, though? Not yet?”

“Of course. You don’t have to say anything if you don’t want to. And I won’t, for that matter. But, for the record, I’m pretty sure everyone would be cool with it if you did. I think you picked a pretty good batch of friends.”

“Yeah. Thanks.”

“Thank you. For telling me. I really am glad I get to know you a little better now. You know you’re my favorite person.”

“Stooop,” Will groaned and turned over in the seat to look back out the window with a weak laugh, wiping furiously at his eyes again,” I don’t want mom to ask why I’m crying. She’s gonna have a heart attack.”

“Fine. I’m still going to give you that hug, though. If you end up a snotty mess, that’s on you.”

Will huffed and rolled his eyes,“ Deal.”

Will changed the radio station and turned up the music, now with that heavy secret no longer his alone to carry, and ‘Don’t You (Forget About Me)’ was playing at just that moment. So they let the Simple Minds take them away as they continued toward Madison. Where Jonathan indeed pulled his younger brother into his arms and held him there with everything he had until Will reminded them that they should probably head in to help the grown-ups load up the car.

And when they found their mom at the baggage claim... When they saw her with not only Murray at her side but Jim Hopper on the other… it was beyond anything they could’ve possibly expected to see.

Joyce ran over to them and wrapped her boys in an embrace while Will commented over her shoulder,” Some trip to Alaska.”

“Yeah. It really was. That’s the surprise, which we can explain more about later, but are you both alright? Is El?” she worried over her boys, just as anyone could’ve guessed she’d do. Wiping hair out of their faces so she could look them over herself.

“We’re okay.” Jonathan excused,” But how- how is he-?”

“It’s a long story. One we couldn’t say over the phone given how many times they’ve been bugged, and since- well, Doctor Owens is... who even knows anymore. We wanted to tell you, but-”

“It’s okay. And we have a walkie in the car, so we can let them know on the way back. I mean- El’s going to be- This is just… a really good surprise for her right now.” Will smiled just imagining giving El her dad back.

“Is that everything?” Jonathan asked, eyes wide at the six bags piled up beside Jim, impatiently tapping his foot.

“There’s one more.” Murray answered,” And since we’re all waiting, would anyone care to explain why there was an emergency while we ran to pick up a lost American hero?”

“That’s also a long story.”

“Great. Just love those. Don’t you just love long, complicated stories about life-or-death emergencies, Jim?” Murray asked him as he propped an elbow on Hop’s shoulder and leaned over on him. The man looked tired, annoyed, just overall pretty bothered by all the time he’s spent cramped between Murray and Yuri in the helicopter flight over. And all the hours since when they've been so busy he hasn’t gotten any real peace.

He was irritated and ready to be somewhere with a bed that he can call home for the night, and Murray’s attitude wasn’t helping,” What I would love, would be a nap, a pair of earplugs, or to get going. So can we please get going?”

“Patience. We’re waiting on your daughter’s bag, after all. Honestly, if I knew you’d be this crabby when we brought you back home, I wouldn’t have gone with Joyce to get you.” Murray shook his head next to him.

“I’m loading the car,” he grumbled as he picked up his and Joyce’s bags from the mound.

“So, he hasn’t changed much,” Jonathan commented, stepping forward to grab the handle of his suitcase while Will did the same.

“No, he hasn’t,” his mother agreed with him.

“But he does look weird now,” Will mentioned,” What’s up with that?”

“It’s ‘cause he’s all skinny.” the other brother quipped.

“Okay, be nice. Things were a little crazy in ‘Alaska’, but-” Joyce’s eyes widened and she pointed at the conveyor belt,” Oh! Murray! There’s her suitcase!”

He quickly grabbed it and handed it over to her.

“Okay, now we can go,” she said as she took the bag and they all started heading out the doors,” Anyway, you think it’s not a good look for him?”

“No. It’s weird. Hop isn’t supposed to be skinny.” Will insisted.

“Well, I imagine we can fatten him back up now that we have him home again. Speaking of, none of us have eaten much all day. What’re the plans for dinner?”

“There’s a make-your-own-taco buffet thing waiting at Steve’s house,” Jonathan answered as they all passed their bags to Jim to pack in the back.

“Oh, thank god,” Hopper commented as he slammed the rear door of the station wagon. It might not be Enzo’s, but it was going to be the best meal he’s had in nearly a year. He started rounding for the driver’s seat and clapped his hands to get everyone to hurry up,“ Come on people, let’s go!”

“Hop. Breathe a second, we’ll be there in like thirty minutes.” Joyce tried to assure him, taking to the passenger seat herself while Murray and the boys tucked themselves in the back.

“Not even. I’m driving, and I’m speeding, and if anyone has a problem with it, or wants to pull me over, they’ll have to t-bone me,” he said as he turned the key.

“Yeah, I’m sure that’s exactly what Nancy would like to hear you say while we borrow her car. Everyone’s buckled in, right?” she turned around to check.

“They better be.” He shot back as he peeled out of the airport parking lot,” And Nancy doesn’t have to know what I say about the only set of wheels I have to get me to my kid.”

They bickered a little bit more as the car sped down the road back home. But there was a certain… air about the way they were doing it. There was an unspoken fondness in it.

Will leaned over to Jonathan and whispered,“ Am I crazy, or is there something going on there?”

“I think there might be,” he answered.

“Oh, there absolutely is,” Murray added with a sure nod.

“Some business conference.” Will muttered to himself, impressed,” Go, Mom.”

#This update took longer than usual bc of all these songs #It's a fun side project I'm taking up. But holy shit is it taking a long time to put together.#And when I thought I was finally ready to publish I remembered that Bon Jovi's Slippery When Wet album didn't come out until August '86 #I had to re-figure out Mike's songs bc my top 2 choices were off that album #Anyway #I got to do a bunch of character stuff I've been looking forward to!#The Argyle+Nancy team up! More ex-Catholic stuff for Robin! The ST Fic required fav song convo! Will's really sweet coming out!#And I got to push my 'Hoper was hotter when he was fat'? And I'm gonna make him fat again?#Oh it's a good day.#I'll get back to it. Because next chap - we're getting to that sweet sweet El and Hop reunion. And possibly another big return... 👀#Have a good day and don't forget to check out the playlists if you're interested! ❤️#Steve Harrington #Eddie Munson #Steddie #Steveddie #Steve x Eddie #Nancy Wheeler #Robin Buckney #Ronance #Robin x Nancy #The Fruity Four #Stranger Things #Stranger Things 4 #Stranger Things 4 spoilers #Stranger Things 4 volume 2 spoilers #stranger things fanfiction #ST4 fanfic #Steddie Fanfic #Ronance Fanfic

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